Serengeti Lightning by Vivi Andrews Page A

her. Mara gave a ragged gasp. She was tuned to his touch, primed to do nothing but feel, all thought long since abandoned. Her only coherency was the need for more . Michael released her breast and lowered himself to his knees. A devilish smile quirked his sexy-as-sin mouth and her heart stuttered. More.
    Michael pressed her back against the wall and hooked one of her knees over his shoulder, so she was completely open to him. His hand held her pussy, inches from his face, though his fingers stayed still and he made no move to bring her over the edge. Mara squirmed in his hold, urging him to give her the rhythm she needed.
    “Michael,” she murmured breathily, his name both praise and plea.
    He leaned forward and flicked his tongue across her clit. Mara gave a short, sharp shriek and her hands locked on his shoulders for balance. He was the only steady point in her world. He lapped against her again and she nearly saw heaven. Need built underneath her, coiling like a spring.
    “Admit it, Mara.”
    What was she supposed to be admitting? She could barely remember her own name. Right now she’d admit to being the Queen of Sheba, as long as he didn’t stop what he was doing.
    “Yes,” she moaned, the only word she knew.
    He set his mouth against her, sucking her bud into his mouth. The delicious pressure popped inside her and she came in a rush, sobbing his name. Pleasure rippled through her limbs, making them feel heavy, but Michael wasn’t done. He kept sucking and teasing her clit until she was back on the edge of need before she had time to come down.
    He brought her again, a fast, hard, shuddering orgasm that wrenched through her, bone-deep.
    In a moment of pleasure-induced clarity, Mara remembered why they were here. Their last time. She wanted it to be good for him. He’d already made it beyond good for her.
    She threaded her fingers through his hair, palming his scalp and pulling him back. He put his thumb on her clit, as if marking his place, rubbing it in a slow circle.
    “Come up here,” she pleaded. “I need you inside me.”
    He shrugged her knee off his shoulder, rising so quickly he had her leg wrapped around his hip before she had a chance to lower it. He caught her other leg and lifted her, settling both her legs circling his waist. Mara wrapped her arms around his neck, expecting to feel him pressing into her, but Michael surprised her. Always surprising her…
    He spun them away from the wall, crossing to the bed and lowering her gently onto her back on the mattress.
    Something in his care, his tenderness, brought tears to her eyes, but Mara blinked them away. Michael was wonderful, but even if this was their farewell, she refused to cry. He pressed a kiss onto her lips, so soft and sweet it was more the promise of a kiss than a kiss itself.
    She wanted more than promises she would never be able to redeem. Mara sank her hands into his hair again and pulled his head down to hers. She feasted on his lips, drawing on them and rolling her body in a sinuous wave beneath his until they were both back on the sharp edge of need.
    He notched himself against her entrance and Mara released his mouth on a moan. “Last time…” she panted. “Make it good.”
    An odd flicker passed through Michael’s eyes, but then he pressed inside her in a slow, luscious stroke and Mara couldn’t think to wonder about it. She couldn’t think of anything but the thick, hard feel of him stretching her tight.
    He brushed her hair away from her face, framing it with his hands and dropping a kiss on her cheeks, her temples, and beneath the curve of her jaw. His eyes were an intense, burning blue and she couldn’t look away. Holding her gaze, he drew back and thrust slowly back again. Mara angled her hips to take him a fraction deeper. He thrust again and she released a ragged sigh. Before it had been a thundering rollercoaster of lust, but this was a sultry, sensual vise of passion, tightening slowly around them.
    Michael